


What It Feels Like To Be Queen

by IvyLeigh



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Fucking and Fighting It's All The Same, Oral Sex, Pool Sex, Porn with Feelings, Queening, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:15:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28531320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IvyLeigh/pseuds/IvyLeigh
Summary: Boba Fett introduces Fennec Shand to her new Palace.
Relationships: Boba Fett/Fennec Shand
Comments: 17
Kudos: 81





	What It Feels Like To Be Queen

“So. How’s it feel?”

Fennec Shand lowered the bottle from her lips, and slowly craned her head at the magnificent armored man sitting in his new throne, spread-legged and owning it as if he always had. A sly smirk spread her lips. “How’s what feel?”

Boba Fett turned over his shoulder and looked up at Shand draped on what was now his throne like a krayt dragon in heat. “To be a Queen?” his voice rasped through his helm. 

Her dark eyes simmering in a low sensuous boil, she gripped the neck of the bottle in the exact way he wanted her gripping his hardening cock right now. Even clothed from neck to foot, Fett knew exactly what lay underneath. And he wanted some. Right now. Badly.

Fennec let out a throaty chuckle. “I don’t know. You haven’t made me feel like one.” A beat and a smirk. “Today.”

Fett laughed-- that low, sexy laugh that always seemed to hit between her legs every time. “We had work to do, and you performed as stellarly, as usual. That work is done. We’re alone now.”

She pouted playfully, glancing about the throne room. “If I’m a Queen, where’s  _ my _ throne? I only see one.”

Boba patted his lap with both gloved hands. “Right ‘ere.”

Grinning, Shand took one last, long swig of spotchka before sliding off the throne and striking a lithe pirouette to land straddled on his thighs: Dank farrick, but he never got tired of watching her move. His balls were already tightening up in his pants. 

Shand tossed the bottle over her shoulder, letting it shatter and explode its contents all over Bib Fortuna’s bloated dead body on the floor in front of the throne. She arched into him as she grasped the sides of his helmet while Boba ran his hands up her thighs to cup her taut, perfect ass. He took her in through his visor. “You’re too pretty for me. You know that, right?”

Fennec rolled her eyes. He would never admit it, but Fennec knew that the scars left on Boba’s face and body by the Sarlacc’s acid bothered him somewhat. She saw it briefly in his eyes whenever they stripped off their clothes for sex, noting the brief grimace he’d make when he shed is armor. Snaking a hand behind his neck, she pressed his helmet’s hydraulic lock open. “Shut up and kiss me.”

A low growl rumbled through his vocoder before he reached up, yanked his helmet off, tangled a fist into her thick black hair, and crushed her lips into his, licking into her mouth. 

His scarred lips spilling into her mouth didn’t repel Shand, but roused her even more. Sure, she’d had many partners over the years-- too many at times. And many were younger and taller, with pretty-boy holovid looks and all the brains of a left-handed spanner. They were fun… for a while. 

Fett wasn’t pretty and Fett wasn’t fun. Fett was danger. Fett was violence. Fett was ruthlessness and drive and animal instinct to survive. He was everything she was to the bone. 

Shand broke the kiss to meet his onyx-hued eyes with her own, running her thumb over a scar under his eye. He in turn released her hair and returned the gesture, a momentary lapse of tenderness. “So,” he whispered, his lip snarling into a smile, “how should I make you feel like a Queen? On this throne?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Here?”

“Why not? You’ve dispatched our audience rather well. And it’s your throne too.” Boba leaned up and took her chin between his teeth. “I say we break it in proper,” he growled against her skin. 

Shand’s eyes fluttered as her cunt clenched. However, she glanced around the filthy courtroom, which looked like it hadn’t been power-washed since Jabba’s death. “I don’t particularly want to get naked in here.”

“No need,” Boba chuckled. “Just peel that front panel off your trousers.”

She cocked her head and furrowed her brow. “What do you have in mind--”

“Do it,” Fett ordered with narrowed eyes. 

Only Boba Fett could talk to her like that and not only live, but get into her pants as well-- which seemed to quite literally about to happen at this moment. Slowly, Shand slid back to her feet and undid the snaps on the double-sided panel, a design she purposely chose for efficiency and convenience-- because losing precious minutes having to fumble with trousers to relieve herself could mean missing a target she spent days staking out. And like now, it had other benefits as well. 

Tossing it aside, she stood before him, eyes slit with lust and anticipation. Boba honed his gaze on the luscious mons bared before him, softly furred and already dewy for him. His cock bulged against his trousers to the point of pain, but he was in no hurry for relief-- they had time. He crooked a finger. “Closer.” Shand obliged, taking a step into him. That vicious smile returned to his lips. “Brace yourself, Queen”.

With a speed and strength that most men could only dream of, Fett hooked his hands into the creases of her thighs and hoisted her up and over him, aligning her cunt directly over his mouth. Fennec yelped, finding herself suddenly airborne, and grasped the back of the throne on either side of Boba’s bald head. He chuckled, his breath puffing over her folds. “Show me how strong you are,” he rasped as he lowered her down to kiss her cunt the same way he kissed her mouth.

Shand let out a low roar, bracing herself on the throne, arms stiff, legs spread, and abdomen tight, holding herself taut as Boba effortlessly held her up. Of course, the cybernetics knitted into her abs definitely helped, in more ways than one-- they not only strengthened her core, but the neural pathways connecting to her spinal cord were also wired into her pelvic floor. While she liked sex before, it didn’t compare to the surge of physical electricity she could feel now.

When it came to this act, Boba was a veritable glutton. Nothing tasted as good as a woman or satisfied as much, not even a fat bounty, and gods knew he'd had his share across the galaxy. But Fennec was a delicacy in of herself-- a brute just like him, but tasted sweeter than Alderaani honey and smelled as clean as the rainy season on Kamino. Since he found her half-dead on the Tatooine sands and healed her, their attraction grew as well as their partnership, and a day hadn’t gone by without him gorging on her at least twice. And he did just that, flattening his tongue along her pink, flicking her clit, delving his tongue up and in while squeezing her thighs purple.

And oh, the sounds she made. None of those mewling pitches Jabba’s girls or a well-paid whore would squeak out, pretending to like that they were being taken by the galaxy’s most ruthless killer. No, Fennec growled, grunted, and roared when she took her pleasure from him--- and it filled the cavernous den and bounced off the walls into his ears, urging him on.

Shand ground herself into Fett’s mouth, teeth and eyes clenched, her body tensing like a laser crossbow. She suddenly remembered Fortuna’s bloated corpse on the floor behind her, and when she imagined his dead eyes staring at the two of them desecrating the throne that he never deserved, she let out a howling laugh that only intensified the orgasm building inside her. Boba responded by pulling her even harder against his mouth, relentlessly licking and even sinking his teeth into her mons. 

That pushed her over the edge. Fennec threw back her head and vised Boba’s head between her thighs as the cybernetically-enhanced orgasm ripped through her, a guttural roar filling the throne room that spooked the womp rats living in the walls into scurrying. She shook and growled, her hips bucking once, twice, until she came all the way down in every way, collapsing on her arms on the back of the throne. 

Chuckling deep in his chest, Boba grabbed her waist and slid her down his torso to settle her in his lap. He devoured her mouth once more, swallowing Shand’s gasps for air whole. Finally, he pulled away and let her breathe for a moment, but only for one-- because he rocked to his booted feet and hoisted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, and descended the dias. “Come on.”

Still panting, Shand breathed, “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere you’ll feel better about getting naked,” Boba murmured before taking her lips again and carrying her out of the courtroom and into a narrow corridor. 

Even as they moved through the palace, Fett never stopped on her mouth and lips, knowing these palace halls like the back of his hand, never even needing to see where he was going. Fennec caught bursts of double-sunlight that streamed through strategic shafts in the ceilings behind her closed eyes, trusting her King to know his way-- when he suddenly stopped and broke their kiss. 

“Seems you didn’t dispatch our entire audience,” he whispered as he glared over her shoulder. 

Fennec knit her brow and shifted in his hold, indicating that he put her down, and he complied, never taking his eyes off the intruder. Once her feet touched floor, Shand turned to see for herself. A tall, lanky, spotted-skinned Theelin-human hybrid female stood in the shafted Tatooine sunlight, dressed in an animal-skin bodysuit, her electric-red hair spiked high all over her head, her face a mix of terror and awe. 

Boba still held Fennec close. She felt his chuckle through his armor. “Rystall Sant. You still haunt these halls?”

Shand slit her eyes. “You know this bitch?” 

“We’ve met.” His tone was dismissive, but not dismissive enough. Shand didn’t like it, glaring bolts at the alien woman.

Rystall panted, poised on the tip of the choice to stay or run, when she suddenly cried out, “Hail Boba Fett, new Ruler of Tatooine!” 

Fennec’s hand clenched Boba’s arm with rising malice. But Fett said nothing, just merely smirked at the woman. Rystall’s posture relaxed a bit as she realized she wasn’t about to be immediately killed. She stepped a little closer to the couple. “I offer to serve you, Mighty One,” she said in thickly-accented Basic. She spread her pale palms, and even dared a seductive smile. “Like I used to. Remember, Fettttttt?” she purred.

Shand’s grip clamped even harder, and Fett could feel the rage shaking in it.

Rystall undulated forward, her eyes drooping with pretentious lust. “And of course, your frrriend here. I could serve her the same way, yesss? Forrrr you, Boba.” She reached for Fennec’s cheek...

Big mistake.

That hand on Boba’s arm was quicker than a blink. It shot up and wrenched Rystall’s wrist up and back. Before she could take a breath to scream, she was pushed face-first into the sandstone wall, arm wretched back to the point of breaking, and a vibroblade humming across her long throat. 

“Touch me again,” Fennec hissed into the woman’s ear, “and I’ll cut out your tongue and feed it back to you.”

Rystall whimpered and shook against the wall. Boba ran a gloved hand over his mouth, trying to wipe away the grin forming there. “Fenn.” Shand shot a glare back over her shoulder at him. “Easy, mesh’la. She’s harmless.”

Fennec lowered the blade from Rystall’s throat, but kept her arm bent and pressed into the wall. Fett sauntered to the poor girl’s side and leaned in her ear. “This is how you’ll serve me,” he rasped. “You’ll fetch my helmet and Fenn her codpiece. Then, you’ll bring us food and drink and towels and oils; you know where to. And then…” He grabbed her Rystall’s jaw in a duratseel grip, “you’ll get the fuck out.”

Rystall’s lips quivered in terror. Boba nodded curtly to Fennec, who took the cue and released her arm. Rystall gave a short pained cry before she stumbled and ran back to the throne room, darting frightened glances back behind her until she disappeared. 

As Fett came to Shand’s other side, she threw him a look dripping with acid. “Please tell me you didn’t stick your dick in that woman.”

Boba merely smirked as he leaned on the wall. “Just her throat. She’s good with that. Singer, you know.”

Fennec glared at him for a few more moments until the laugh she tried to suppress snorted through her nose. “Bastard.”

“Mood killed?” he asked with a raised bare brow. Fennec replied with a sighed moan before coming in and thrusting her mouth onto his, snaking her hand behind his head and her tongue along his lips and teeth. Fett took that as a no. 

But then, she pulled away and knit her brow. “Towels and oils? Are you saying there’s actual water-freshers in this place?”

He smirked. “Better. Come on, I want to show you something.” 

He slid an armored arm around her waist, leading her through the dark halls. They came upon an archway, then a staircase going down, which led to another set of stairs. As they descended, Fennec noted the air definitely smelled of moisture, more so with every downward step. Eventually, the desert-parched air became saturated with humidity. When they reached the bottom, Boba pulled a thickly-beaded curtain back and jerked his head. “Go on.”

Fennec stepped through. The place was pitch black, she couldn’t see a thing, but she could hear water sluicing and dripping. “Boba, what is this place?”

“Never been in this part of Jabba’s palace, have you? Probably because you weren’t a pleasure slave servicing a visiting mob boss.” 

Stepping around her, he raised a gauntlet and pointed it at the wall, igniting the flamethrower. A torch suddenly burst into light, and Fennec pulled a gasp as it lit up a massive underground pleasure grotto.

As Fett moved past her to fire up a few more wall sconces, Shand took it all in with a gaping mouth. An underground pool stretched what looked like at least a half kilometer into the palace’s bedrock, with a small waterfall in the middle, crashing onto boulders made of precious stones. Steam flowed over the surface, indicating it was heated by the belly of Tatooine itself. And all around it were couches of Arisand velvets, tables and lamps made of glass and iron, pits with mattresses donned with sheets and pillows of the finest silks and damasks the galaxy could offer. 

She stepped toward the edge of the massive pool. “This is a natural thermal spring. There’s… gotta be more freshwater here than in Mos’s Eisley and Espa combined,” she breathed.

“Exactly right. This is barely a fraction of what’s beneath us right now,” Fett replied. “Why do you think Jabba built this palace here? He controlled all the water for the entire Jundland Wastes and beyond. Control the water, and you control Tatooine.” 

Fennec huffed a short laugh, kicking herself for never putting the pieces together before. Of course this is why he wanted Jabba’s palace-- the building was nothing compared to what lay underneath it. 

Boba began shedding his armor, unlatching his breastplate, then his shoulder guards, tossing them on a nearby couch. “We’ll enjoy it tonight. And tomorrow, we negotiate with the Tuskens to give them a share.”

Okay, she hadn’t seen that piece falling. “The Tuskens? Why?”

Fett dropped onto the couch. “Jabba wasn’t stupid, but he was arrogant. He never partnered with the locals, just chose to dominate them.” He peeled off one knee rocket-launcher, then the other. “He took this place from a Tusken faction decades ago-- story goes he actually paid off a rogue Jedi to kill them all in the night.” He removed a boot. “I want to do things differently. Ally the Tuskens, bring them into the syndicate, give them a share. Have them at our disposal.”

“You mean,” she breathed, stepping toward him, “our own personal army.”

Fett nodded as he took off the other boot. “One an off-world crime family would never see coming.” But he then stopped and looked over the rippling pool, thoughtful for a moment.

Shand noticed. “That’s not the only reason, is it?”

He slid his dark eyes back to her. “The Tuskens found me in the wastes after I escaped the Sarlacc. They could have left me to die, but they didn’t. They saved my life, healed me the best they could. I owe them.” Those eyes narrowed when she chuckled. “What?”

“You like to say that you're not Mandalorian,” Shand said, “but you act like one sometimes with that whole honor thing. Like you did with that Mando and the little green kid.” She paused a moment before venturing, “Is that why you saved me? Paying it forward, as it were?”

Boba set his elbows on his knees, his brow was as stern as granite, his dark eyes as solid as basalt. “No. I saved you because Fennec Shand didn’t deserve to die handcuffed and defenseless at the hands of a two-credit punk with delusions of grandeur.” 

She started a bit at his claim, letting out a breath. But then she smiled. “Just as Boba Fett didn’t deserve to rot in the belly of a sand beast for a millennium.” 

Fett’s lip pulled up in a smirk just as his black eyes softened. “As I said, fate sometimes smiles upon the wretched.” He rose from the couch and undid his under-robe, peeling it off and revealing his scarred barrel-chest. He gave her a leer. “You just gonna stand there or are you gonna get naked already?”

Fennec shot him a bemused look, then started unfastening her own garb, shrugging off the armorweave jacket first, then the shirt underneath. Boba undid his codpiece and trousers, sliding them off his hips and stepping out. Fennec narrowed her eyes and hummed in admiration of his cock jutting up and out, already hard and big for her. Before she could undo the rest of her pants, Fett was already on her, his big hands tearing at the fasteners, his thumbs pushing the waistband down her hips, his mouth and teeth already on her neck. 

He fisted one hand into her hair while groping her breast with the other, flicking the nipple into a hard little pebble. His smells of sweat, sand, blaster fire and her own cunt swirled in her senses. Fennec moaned and threw back her head, snaking her own hand down his meaty torso and grabbed his cock. She teased a slender finger along the slit of his glans, laving the pre-cum over it-- and there was a lot-- and then spreading it down to his hilt. 

Boba moved his hand down her body, mindful of the cybernetics in her abs, before cupping her cunt. “You’re a gorgeous piece of ass, Fenn,” he growled with that knee-buckling accent from deep in his chest right into her ear.

Most women would have taken that as degrading. But Fennec just laughed, knowing Fett’s own brand of sweet-nothings. But her laugh turned into a grunt when he pushed two fingers up inside her, hooking them to get at her G-spot just right. She bucked into his hand and tried to throw a leg around him, only to realize her pants were still around her boots. 

When she faltered and cursed, Boba chuckled and let her go, backing toward the pool. “Get those off and get in here,” he said before turning around and diving in. 

Fennec didn’t need to be told twice; her core was pulsing and clenching with unabashed need to be filled. She quickly stripped her boots and pants off and plunged into the pool. 

Fett had swum some ways out, finding a ledge under the water to sit on. He took a moment to just watch this beautiful woman glide through the water to him in the flickering torchlight, watching her black hair swirl over her athletic body, gripping himself and getting himself even harder for her. 

She emerged from under the water with a gasp for air and, without a moment’s hesitation, climbed on top of him. Boba gripped her neck with one hand and an ass cheek in the other, pulling her down and sinking his engorged cock into her in one rough move. Fennec crashed her lips into Fett’s, gorging on his mouth as she shamelessly rode him, clutching his bald head in both her hands. 

Her walls gripped his dick like a slicked fist, milking it with unrestrained ferocity. His wet hands played up and down her back before he grabbed her ass. He broke the kiss to stare unblinking into her eyes, lips curled in a feral snarl. “That’s it, baby,” he hissed through his clenched jaw, “take it, take what you want. It’s all yours.”

Fennec let out a throaty laugh wrapped around a groan, and whipped her wet hair over her shoulder without breaking her fierce stride. “You’re right, it IS all mine,” she growled, mimicking his snarl. “That means no more throat-kriffing any more of Jabba’s sloppy seconds, got it?”

Boba chuckled and fucked up hard inside her, eliciting a grunt from her throat. “I like when you get jealous.”

“Bastard,” she growled through a grin.

“Come on, show me, Fenn.” His hands landed on her hips, urging a new pace. “Use my dick. Show me what a bastard I am.”

Into her ears and straight down to her clit, Fennec pumped herself hard on him, up and down, in and in and in and in-- it was like her G-spot was sparking and shooting currents straight up her spine. She flung herself straight up on him, giving Fett a spectacular view of her tits bouncing and the light show of her cybernetics as she used him to chase her pleasure. Finally, wide-eyed and mouth agape, Fennec threw her head back and a stream of Huttese profanity erupted from her gullet as her entire body shook and clamped on his cock. 

It took all of his control not to cum with her-- but he wasn’t just done with her yet. Once again, Fett didn’t let her have her little afterglow. He pushed her off him and pushed back into the water, then turned around and grabbed a generous hold of her hair. Swimming to the other side, he pulled Fennec along on her back.

“BOBA!” she shrieked, uselessly grabbing at his hand, “you son of a bitch!”

“Easy there, princess,” he crooned, “you got yours. Now it’s time to get mine.”

“Don’t call me ‘princess’!” Shand barked. “I hate that!” But underneath the bark, there was a hint of laughter. 

“As you wish, Queen.” He was answered by another half-furious growl.

There were steps on the other side leading out of the pool. Boba pulled Fennec into his arms and half-hoisted her onto his shoulder, carrying her out of the water. Fennec half-seriously, half-playfully thrashed around, slippery in his arms, beating her fists against his back. But when they reached a massive mattressed pit laden with Arisand pillows and he threw her down on her back, she stopped all pretense of struggle and just took him in. Fett stood over her in the torchlight; naked and proud, scarred and thickly muscled, his cock jutting hard and up, breathing heavy and looking at her like he was about to eat her alive. 

She smirked, shrugged, and spread her legs. “Well?”

Languidly, Boba took one step into the pillowed pit-- then pounced on her like a loth-wolf. Catching both her wrists in one hand, he thrust them over her head while gripping his cock with the other and sheathing it into her slick, swollen cunt full-hilt. 

Fennec howled and arched, wrapping her long legs around his back as Fett ploughed into her. Taking her wrists now in both hands, he still held her down as he held himself up and over her, snaring her eyes in his glare as he took her as savagely as she did him moments ago. His cock was a battering ram, stretching her wide and deep, pummeling her into a submission she’d  _ never _ given to another. And she never would-- Boba Fett wasn’t just her partner nor her rescuer. He was, indeed, her  _ king _ . 

His balls pulled tight inside him as his body tensed to the breaking point. He let go of Fennec’s wrists to shift himself and her, hooking his arms under her knees and crushing them into her chest. His pacing stuttered but his thrusts only picked up as he rammed himself into her, harder, harder, HARDER--

The tension snapped, and Fett erupted inside her with a violent slam of his hips and a low, guttural roar. He slid an arm out from under her knees and groped her breast as his seed spurted in waves, his hips snapping with every pulse. Fennec watched him with a leering smile, grasping his cock with her muscles, intent on draining every drop. But even as she did and looked up into his harsh face, twitching with aftershocks yet uncharacteristically content, a pang went through her: A lot of good it would do. 

Fett craned his neck back and forth, pulling long hard breaths as he softened inside her. He ran his calloused hand over her sinewy body, bending down to set his teeth to her breast and gently raking them across her nipple, then his tongue over the soft bite. He pulled out and rolled onto his back, his vast chest heaving with breath. 

It wasn’t often Boba Fett smiled, but one crept across his battered face-- until he turned and saw Fennec staring up at the stone ceiling, her expression pinched and a little sad. “Eh,” he whispered, “what’s with the face?”

She pulled a long breath through her nose as her hand traveled absently down her body to rest on the cybernetics in her abs. “I can’t give you a kid. You know that, right?”

Boba rolled onto his elbow, his brow furrowed. “Where’d that come from?”

Shand shrugged. “King needs an heir, right? Even Jabba had a couple.”

“Fat good that did ‘im,” Boba grunted. “They were all picked off the minute word got out that he was dead.” He cupped her breast and leaned into her. “Fenn, even if you could, I couldn’t give you one either.” She rolled her head to him, surprise in her eyes. He smirked. “Why do you think my father wanted a clone for a son? Not like he didn’t have women beating his door down for the chance to have his kid.” He lazily rubbed her torso up and down. “You can do the math.”

Fennec gazed at him for a moment before sighing and covering his hand with her own. “We’re certainly a pair of the wretched, aren’t we?”

Both their attention suddenly focused on the grotto entrance when they heard the scuff of a shoe. Shand sat straight up, but Boba remained relaxed when Rystall appeared in the torchlight. Neither of them did anything to hide their nudity, but Fennec snorted a laugh through her nose as she watched the poor woman trying to balance a tray of food and drink in one arm while carrying Fett’s helmet with the other. When Rystall saw them lying there, she stumbled on her needle-thin heels, almost dropping the tray. Fennec would have given anything to have watched that lanky bitch stumble down those stairs.

Fett tossed a gesture at a table beside them. “Set the tray down here and put my helmet with the rest of my armor.” 

Rystall complied, shakily bending at the knee to place the tray on the table. Fennec waited until the tray was stable before grabbing a pillow and hurling it at Rystall. “And then get THE FUCK OUT,” she snarled. 

Poor Rystall shrieked and stumbled on her heels as she ran out, throwing the helmet and Fennec’s codpiece on the sofa as she fled. Fennec leaned back on her elbows and turned to Boba, a satisfied smirk playing across her lips.

He mimicked her smirk as he took her in. Love was not a word that had ever made it into Fett’s vernacular. But damned if he hadn’t chosen his Queen well. 

  
  
  
  



End file.
